


Persevering Underground

by QuintessenceA



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuintessenceA/pseuds/QuintessenceA
Summary: You fell Underground. You've been a pacifist for Undertale, but unfortunately for the natives, when you only have one life in a game your play style tends to be powerleveling to victory. When it's not just a screen anymore, what game will you play?





	Persevering Underground

**Author's Note:**

> *A wild Fan Idea appeared!  
> *You used Write Story.  
> *It wasn't very effective. 
> 
> Just having some fun putting down my take of this story. Everyone's always pacifist, but if my life was on the line without resets I wouldn't let them take me that easily.

You woke up in a bed of flowers. Not just any flowers, but large yellow flowers. They looked almost like buttercups, if buttercups had blossoms the size of sunflowers.

-That's weird. You thought to yourself. 

It was dark, the dimness hardly enough light to see anything more than a few feet away. Above your head was a ceiling of darkness with a single beam of light directly above you. You rub the sleep out of your eyes. The last thing you remember was being at home... playing on your computer. What were you playing? You couldn't remember. You were doing... something... right before you were going to get ready for bed. It was foggy.

"Hello?" you called into the darkness. "Is anyone there?" Silence was the only answer.

You stood up, nerves making your legs feel shaky. The term "blackout drunk" came to mind, isn't that a reason people wake up in strange places with no memory of why? But that didn't make sense, you weren't much of a drinker regularly, much less a heavy alcoholic.

Kidnapped? Well, that didn't make much sense either. Maybe monsters came out of the closet to steal you away. You laugh to yourself. Monsters, sure.

You take a few steps forward, watching as your eyes adjust to the darkness ahead of you. About ten feet from the flowers, you encounter a wall. You seemed to be in a cave (or earthen basement, you mind supplies unhelpfully) judging by the dirt walls. Placing your hand up against the wall, you see that you're wearing a long sleeved purple striped shirt. Why…?

A small sound of moving pebbles from your left makes you jump. You instantly freeze, listening hard.

"H-hello?" you call out again.

There's no further sound. Sucking in a deep breath, you decide to follow the wall towards the sound. It's not like there's anything you want to find in the other direction. Your foot bumps up against something on the floor, and you jump back in fear. It turns out to be just a stick, a little smaller than a baseball bat, and you pick it up, grateful to have a weapon of some kind.

The wall turns in a shallow curve, circling the flower bed. You see an opening in the wall, and step through to see a long hallway. A very faint purple glow outlined a large rectangle at the end. A door? You hurry forward, pleased to see something that might answer your questions. It was a door, large and heavy looking. Not like anything you've ever seen before, at least not in real life. It'd looked like it'd be home in a video game, like Kingdom Hearts or some old ruins. 

Tentatively you push on it. It doesn't budge, so you pushed harder until it finally swings inward with a loud creak. 

Pausing, you hold your breath as you look in, listening for signs of life. There's a single yellow flower ahead, swaying slightly with a breeze you can't feel. You can just see the dim purple outline of another door behind it.

Cautiously you enter the room. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle as you feel an uncomfortable sense of deja vu. As you approach the flower, the uneasy feeling only grows stronger. It's still swaying, but you don't feel any wind.

A large flower, alone in a cave. That moves under it's own power. You'd almost say it looked like-

"Howdy!" said the flower, turning its big yellow face towards you.

Oh. Oh shit. That's not possible. Not even a little bit.

"I'm Flowey, Flowey the Flower!"

You jaw drops open. 

"Hmm. You're new to the UNDERGROUND, aren'tcha? Golly, you must be so confused."

Confused didn't even begin to cover it. For a second, you couldn't do anything but stare wide eyed.

"Someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess little old me will have to do. Ready?"

You were not only underground, you were in THE Underground. Staring right into the yellow face of the genocidal, SOUL-less child creature that was Flowey. Who, according to those words you know so well, was about to trap you into a battle. 

-Move! Move! Your brain screams at you. -Don't let him get to the next line! Your legs wouldn't respond.

"Here we go!"

Too late.

You could hear the little tune that signals a battle start. Or at least you think you do, it might just be your imagination supplying your terrified brain with what it expects to hear. Crap!

An unnerving pressure fills your chest. It almost feels like you're going to be sick, but the feeling coalesces into a point right in front of your breastbone. The stick dropped from your hand, your fingers suddenly unable to keep their grip. Oh no, you were pretty sure you knew what was coming next. Desperately you closed your eyes and clutched at your chest, hoping against hope that your Soul would stay in your body. There's a sound, almost like a click, and you feel a sudden rush of vertigo, of being in two places at the same time.

"That's your Soul!" exclaimed the cheerful little demon.

Frantic, your eyes snap open, focusing immediately on the little dark purple heart in front of you. In any other setting you probably would have thought it was beautiful. Like the richest amythest you'd ever seen, glowing and flickering madly in the dim light.

Unfortunately, its beauty isn't what you're focusing on. It's the color. The distinctly NOT red color.

You're in Undertale, facing goddamned Flowey himself, without a red soul.

Well, you'd lived a good life, right?

"...friendliness pellets!" Flowey had continued on with his script while you were distracted, but those words caught your attention pretty quick.

"Are you ready? Move around! Get as many as you can!"

Oh, shit! White seed bullets had twinkled into existence around Flowey's head, and were coming right for you! Ducking, you dove to the right like a baseball player diving for home. They sailed above your head harmlessly.

Flowey looked hard at you, his smiling face turned into a frown.

"Hey buddy, you missed them. Let's try this again, okay?"

"Wait, wait!" You tried calling out to him. In the game Toriel comes to save Frisk. To save the red soul. But if you're purple, does that mean you're too early? All you can think of is the image of the purple heart in the SOUL container from the game. Was that you? Jeez, you're gonna die!

Again, you dive right, trying to escape the boundary of the battle. Your shoulder connects with a whump again something solid, and you drop to the ground. The bullets whiz past you with millimeters to spare. A faint white line was superimposed on the ground, like a controlled spotlight. Guess that's not going to work!

"Is this a joke? Are you braindead? RUN. INTO. THE. BULLETS." He gives a sideways look. "Friendliness pellets."

You struggle to listen to the ruins around you and Flowey, hoping to hear some sound of Toriel approaching. You only hear Flowey as he summons more bullets. The final avoidable wave. You had to do something, you weren't going to get another chance.

As the bullets flew towards you, you dodge to the other side, crying out, "Asriel! Wait!"

That stops him cold. He stares at you, face twisted in a grimace of confusion. 

"You know what's going on here, don't you?"

He's still on script. Though he's not wearing the scary goat face. Was that a good sign? Did you change something? You crouch on your heels, breathing heavily, as you wait for the next line. 

You just wanted to see me suffer. And the enviable death to follow. 

"How do you know that name?" Flowey asks you, eyes narrowed. That was different, and you could have sobbed in relief. Now you just had to come up with something to make him let you go and not just kill you. Because he would, and you can't RELOAD. 

Something cold began to slither around your ankle when you didn't answer. You looked down see that a green vine with wicked looking thorns had grown from the dirt beside you and was currently wrapping up your leg.

"Tell me!" Flowey hissed. 

"I- I-," You stumble over the words, staring at the deep purple heart floating in front of you. "I know a lot of things. I can make things interesting for you!"

He didn't respond, waiting for you to continue. You take a deep breath.

"Look, I only have a purple soul, I don't have enough Determination. This is my only run. You like new, right? I think I can make things new and interesting if you let me try."

"Wow, you DO know an awful lot. But you didn't answer my question, silly. HOW do you know that name?" You calf burned, blood trickling down your leg as Flowey squeezed, thorns prickling deep into your flesh. Your Soul pulsed with the pain.

You weren't certain, but you had a pretty good idea that the truth would get you killed. He was a child, deranged evil flower body notwithstanding, and once he gets all the answers he'll just throw his toy (i. e. you) away.

"N-no." You tell him, trying to use the firm 'Adult Voice (TM)' your mother always used on you kids. Your voice almost didn't waver. "That would ruin the game. You've got nothing but time, right? Let me go. Let me play, and try to figure it out. You'll fee- I mean, wouldn't it be more fun to figure it out on your own?" You'd almost said it'd "feel better to figure it out" before you remembered that he didn't feel. Or at least claimed not to. You remembered a clip of him, scared and shaking, as Chara...

"You just want me to let you go." He was glowering at you. Images of Flowey from the stories filled your imagination. Twenty feet tall, vines and thorns and bullets and… No! Get a hold of yourself.

You shrug, hoping it comes off as nonchalant. "Of course I do. That's why I'm offering this game. I won't tell anyone, and you can see if you can figure it out before one of the other monsters does."

The toothy face disappears, and he's looking at you with a quirked eyebrow. "Hmm. Give me a hint?"

You hesitate, would this be a compromise or would it be giving in? Well, you weren't about to give in. Something vague...

"Undertale." That's it, full of meaning but probably useless to him.

"No, it's the Under-GROUND," Flowey corrected, none too gently.

"I know. That's just not what I mean." A line of sweat traced coldly down your back. Boy, was it hot in here or was that just the devil in front of you?

"Undertale..." he repeated, trying out the sound. "What does it mean?"

"No more hints here. I can't drop hints all over my run if I'm rooted to the spot." 

Flowey scowls deeply, looking pointedly at the vine around your leg. Oops, you'd made a pun. He hated those.

Apparently he decided to ignore your unintentional joke, and unwrapped from around your leg. You grit your teeth, wincing as it brushed past the thorn wounds.

"When will I get the next hint?" he asked, sounding for all the world like an impatient child asking about dinner.

-It's ready when it's ready! Came the automatic reply from your parents in your head. You decided to try another route "When I reach Toriel's house."

You hadn't thought ahead that far ahead yet, but you were sure you could come up with something by the time you reached that far.

"So you know her too..." Flowey mused. "Well, I suppose if you know my name..." 

You hadn't thought ahead that far ahead yet, but you were sure you could come up with something by then if you managed to reach it.

"Come on, what have you got to lose? I know..." You swallowed, hard. The words stuck in your throat but you forced them out anyway, knowing the little maniac would love the ego boost. "I know I'm no match for you. So I might as well make it fun."

Flowey laughed. The sound was honestly terrifying. "Alright then," he agreed as he ended the battle. Finally, finally he released your Soul and it retreated into your chest. "You go ahead and play your little game. I'll see you around!" With that, he pulled his flowery head back down into the dirt, disappearing from view.

You dropped to one knee, resisting the urge to throw yourself to the ground and sob in relief. You'd done it. You'd convinced the little bastard not to kill you on the spot. Still no sign of Toriel, but THAT script was for the Determined child, not you. 

-Oh, right, you remembered suddenly. Your purple Soul. Gah, what was that one again? You though back to the stories you'd read, fanart you'd seen. Too many colors, it was hard to keep them straight. Purple had glasses, you think. 

What did that even mean? You shook your head. All you could think of was red for determination and green for kindness. Apparently you weren't overwhelmingly determined or kind. That hurt, if you were being honest with yourself. But you knew also that you couldn't deny it.

Now a bigger, related problem loomed. How the hell do you make it through the underground? The answer came to mind immediately: you take one step at a time. You sighed, retrieving your stick as you stood up again. Best get moving.

You walk forward and place your hand on the doorway that you knew would take you to the Ruins proper. So weak. How were you going to do this?

A thought came to you suddenly, freezing you in place. You didn't have to play pacifist. You were playing pacifist in the Undertale game, sure, but only because you knew the (not so) secret of being able to spare monsters. That and you could reset.

This was hardcore, one life mode.

You know exactly how you play when you want to avoid death in a game. You over level like a beast.

Facing Brock with a lv 23 Ivysaur. Killing Rabites until level 6 to take on Mantis Ant. Grinding until you had the cash to buy the best weapons and armor from whatever shopkeep you had reached. Goodness only know how many Grand Dragons you've killed. Grinding has never been a problem for you.

If you gained LV, you would be safer. It's how you play it safe. No death penalties. But... could you do that here? You held out your stick, your weapon. You'd even thought of it as a weapon when you'd first found it. You'd never killed someone in real life, but you'd never been in danger from someone willing to kill you either.

Then again, there's plenty of times you've stealthed through. Nothing quite as fun as skipping straight past hordes of enemies as rogue or wizard with illusion. 

Well... you'd have to see.

You pushed the door open, and headed into the Ruins.

It was quiet, and you were thankful for that. Soft light without a discernable source filled the room. Stepping around the neat piles of red leaves you looked for something, anything that could be a save star.

"The shadow of the ruins looms above, filling you with determination."

You remember the words, but you see nothing. You kick through the leaves, making a lot more noise than you'd like. What would it look like anyway? Solid? Light? It didn't matter, there wasn't anything yellow here. You stare up the staircase and close your eyes.

-I am determined! I am determined!

Cracking one eye open, you try again to see the star. Nope. Must not be determined enough.

A flash of movement up the stairs draws your attention, but it's gone through the now open door before you can identify it. Fear grips you, and you in turn renew your grip on the stick. 

If they don't fight you, you won't have to fight them. A sudden thought occurs to you- what about a disguise? 

You look over yourself. You have your stick, pants, socks, shoes, and (now that you're investigating properly) apparently Frisk's sweater. In your pocket you find a length of fabric bandage. Used, you realize with a shudder. 

Beggars can't be choosers, you remind yourself solemnly as you wrap the bandage around your head like a bandanna. You reach into the leaf pile, placing the stems into the makeshift headband like some parody of a crown. You don't have a mirror, but you're pretty sure you look like an idiot.

As a final touch, you pull the collar of your sweater over your face, just above your nose. Hardly anything human now showed. You considered placing your socks on your hands to mask your fingers, but decided that your hold on the stick was more important. 

All done, you headed up the staircase. You may not be DETERMINED, but you were going to persevere without it. You hoped that'll be enough.


End file.
